


The Replacement

by OmittedSiren



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Based On a D&D Game, Death makes you think, Don't Judge Me, F/M, Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 21:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmittedSiren/pseuds/OmittedSiren
Summary: Based of a D&D game I played a while back. I played a character who was reincarnated with the soul of Persephone. She ended up traveling with Hades. The whole session was...different. Anyways enjoy.





	The Replacement

The small woman walked silently down the halls, the god sleeping soundly in his bed. She had whispered to the furred trio to keep silent. Here she walks down the heated halls of the underworld. She is wearing a white netting dress, underneath a simple black bra with matching panties. Her goggles resting on top of her head, her blonde hair in a messy half assed bun. She is rushed but still moving so slowly. 

The halls raise like skyscrapers above her head, the chair in the living room acting like a hollow throne for the shattered dreams of the king. You can see a spot where another chair had resided beside his. Looking at it the mortal woman could almost see it. His dark wood, black polished obsidian, onyx head piece. Beside it she could imagine the queen's chair. Emerald green accents on beautiful brilliant pine wood. Vines crawling up the legs, large leaves forming the seat. Together they represented life and death, regrowth and decay, light and dark. Every coin has their two sides. Completed by having one of each half. 

The fireplace houses her metal resting place she just was hours ago. When he reminded her she was like the queen. The elegant flower he once had. Destroyed by the sun's harmful rays. She was the only light in his darkness, her light dimmed as his anger flooded, his halls are empty, his castle, nothing more than three rooms. The small woman knew his training room must have been something more. For what could a god as mighty as him train against?

Maybe a child? Was she with child when the sun took her from the darkness she had called home? She could see the outline of a crib, the king and queen laughing as they danced around carefully. Her stomach protruding yet she still seemed so innocent, pure, and carefree. What an odd place to raise a child. But the mortal woman was sure she was in love with the image of life and death portrayed so carefully in a swirling waltz of mortality. A dance she knew well.

The mortal woman had made her way to the final room of the castle. She paused at the door, it stood at least 50 foot tall. Yet they seem to open for her, knowing her intention of visiting the queen. She doesn’t walk in, just stares from the doorway. A beautiful pomegranate tree standing hundreds of feet tall. Filling the room, leaves have fallen all around the base but oddly none on her beautiful crystalline chamber.

The mortal woman walks in and kneels beside the woman who looks safely sleeping. Away from the harmful rays of the sun, away from the ravishes of time. Here to be the pure flower for the god whenever he wishes to be near her again. Her hands are cupped but nothing is stored in them. As if waiting for an offering. The mortal woman carefully opens the chamber. Unclasping the necklace given to her by the god. Carefully, almost as if touching an infant, freshly outside of the mother's womb, she clasps the necklace around the queen's neck, placing the pendant inside of her hands. 

The god is leaning against the door, he wishes to say something but the mortal hasn’t seen him yet. He opens his mouth to say something but cannot find the words, quietly he waits and listens to the mortal speak to the queen as if asking for a blessing. The mortal woman is carefully stroking the hair of the queen, she is radiant, even without pulse. Her lips gentle curves, her smile could have lit up this castle alone. Her hair cascading down her shoulders in perfect curls. The mortal woman could vision them bouncing up and down with the patter of her feet. Sliding off her shoulders only when being spun by the god in a beautiful dance. 

The mortal is crying now. She is nothing like the queen, she cannot walk with the grace and purpose of a god, she will never have the beautiful lips that could turn the most vile man into a desired gentleman. Her hair will never be like silk of a pharaoh's sheets. Her voice will never send grown men to their knees. She leans down close to the queen and whispers one sentence, and one alone. I will love him for the both of us. 

She closes the box and weeps on top of the coffin, she will never be as special to him as she was. No matter what she does, she could never compare to the way the queen treated him. She couldn’t warm his castle with a laugh like the queen could. She will never be able to waltz into eternity with him like the queen could. She is mortal. She is flawed. And she will always be nothing more than the next best thing. She is nothing more than a replacement.

 

Optional, additional ending~~

 

The god is speechless in the doorway, a million words forcing their way through his mind, but all piled up behind his lips. Unable to form words, he watches as the mortal he cared so much for, the woman he just shared body and soul with just hours ago, weeps at the tomb of his queen. The castle is filled with tears and sorrow for another time. And time could only tell if it will be the last. He wishes among all the pantheons that she however, will be his last. Not as a replacement, but as his love.


End file.
